


Derek Wears Prada

by Clotzx (Ladymacabre)



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: AU, Alternate Universe - Fashion & Models, Devil Wears Prada - Freeform, M/M, alternative universe
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2012-12-21
Updated: 2013-01-16
Packaged: 2017-11-21 20:40:43
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 10,000
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/601847
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ladymacabre/pseuds/Clotzx
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Based off of:<br/>http://acawolves.tumblr.com/post/38323869779/sterek-au-derek-wears-prada-a-naive-and</p><p>Stiles starts working at Trend, a magazine run by Derek Hale.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

Stiles Stilinski had graduated from the University of New York, at the top of his class with a degree in journalism. He had worked hard for it, and had proved himself to his professors with his work. He'd graduated with his best friend, Scott McCall, who was also the roommate to his apartment in New York City. They had decided that moving there full time was the best for the both of them, a writer and an architect. It was like the city was made for the both of them. Scott had managed to get into a architect firm, while Stiles was looking for a job in the world that he wanted. A professor that he had in college had been the person that gave him the push in the right direction. Only, he didn't realize that the right direction was Trend magazine. 

The magazine began in the mid eighties, a unisex fashion magazine that helped both men and women find the fashion trends that would best work for them. It began as Penny Hale's project. She was a smart business and fashion forward woman, who easily brought the magazine to the high standard that it was currently staying at. The current editor of the magazine was Derek Hale, her only son. Just googling his name, Stiles was able to figure out that Derek was pretty much the toughest person to work for.

But when you left him, you were pretty much set in the printed/online world. He was a great step in the right direction. The professor that Stiles was in communication with had set up an interview for Stiles to be Derek's assistant. 

Of course, Stiles was a little put off when he first heard that Trend was a fashion magazine and Derek was the king of fashion. Stiles... Was not a part of the fashion part of the world. He watched football, wore plaid and the only nice clothes he even had were a couple years old.

"If any of them make fun of you, I'll show up and kick their asses tomorrow." Scott called out as he heard his best friend moving around in the kitchen. Stiles rolled his eyes a little bit and threw a scrunched up piece of paper at the back of his head. They'd grown up together, their parents had been friends in California where they had spent most of their time growing up. 

"Thanks." Stiles said, downing his coffee and then making his way out of their apartment. He had an hour before he had to be there for the interview, and he wanted plenty of time to freak out before he had to meet with him. This was really the first job interview that would really matter, the one that would give him a make or break into the world that he wanted to work. Tilting his head back when he got outside, he sucked in a big gasp of air and sighed to himself. 

He couldn't really believe that he was doing it, it was so completely out of his comfort zone. He walked down the street, feeling uncomfortable in the clothes that he was wearing. He had on jeans, because the dress pant that he did actually have... Was torn in the crotch. Probably one of the times when him and Scott had gotten a little crazy in college. He had on red shoes, a black v-neck t-shirt and a black blazer that he had found in the back of his closet. So what if it had a weird little reindeer on the shoulder. He doubted that Derek would even notice he'd be so blown away with the things that he had written. 

Descending into the subway, he wedged himself between an overweight and unhappy looking woman and an Asian business man that looked equally unhappy. He hoped that his job would make him feel a little bit better about his life. Crossing his arms over his chest, his foot bounced on the train with the nerves that were running through his body. He wanted this to go perfectly, that was true.

Feeling his phone vibrate, he jumped and reached into his jeans pocket, sliding it open and smiling a little bit at the picture that Scott had sent him. It was a picture of Scott's recent score in the video game that they had both been playing when the other was busy. He'd been a single solitary point away from beating the high score that had been set by Stiles. 'Better luck next time', Stiles texted. 

He slid his phone away, getting up and leaving the subway as he arrived the area that he needed to be in order to get to the building. Of course, when he stood in front of the building, it was huge and intimidating. Taking in another deep breath, he pushed open the door and made a bee line for the elevator that would take him to the eighteenth floor where Trend headquarters was. 

Getting inside, he stuffed himself in the very back of the elevator trying to make himself as inconspicuous as he possibly could. The people that were in the elevator with him were all dressed amazing, and they were all off by the time that eh reached the eighteenth floor. He bit his lower lip, stepping forward as the doors opened and looked at the world that he had just willingly tossed himself into.

Everyone looked good, like freakishly good. It looked as though they all came from the same town that had been invaded by soulless aliens. As a matter of fact, there were models there, models that were unphotoshopped, skinny and looking unhappy with existing. It was weird, because he was pretty sure that he had masturbated to a few of them. The man at the front desk raised an eyebrow, looking unhappy as he looked up at the unfashionable twenty-one year old. 

"I have an interview with Derek Hale." Stiles said, raising an eyebrow and hoping that the other would understand what he was talking about. The man gave him a look and nodded, not saying a single word to Stiles as he pointed down the hallway and the crooked his finger to the right, giving him directions without saying a single word. He could tell by the look on his face, that the man was not impressed with Derek. And he had a fucking desk job.

He followed the man's directions, sighing quietly to himself and looking at a few of the faces as he walked through the area. A woman with red hair, a black man talking intensely with a blonde girl, and finally as he rounded the corner; an unhappy looking blonde boy dressed in a suit and looking completely business professional. 

"What the hell do you want?" The blonde boy said, being the first person that he had seen while walking through the Trend hallway that seemed to actually be human. The male narrowed his eyes, leaning forward and looking not amused one bit. 

"I'm here for an interview with Derek Hale." Stiles said, feeling a little bit intimidated when he saw 'Jackson' stand up. Or at least that was the name on the front of his desk. He had the kind of name that basically made him seem like an entitled douchebag. It didn't help that his face looked just like that as well, Stiles breathing in deeply because he was seriously getting close to passing out.

"Well, I guess this is a positive. Considering the way that you look, my job is secure and I don't have to worry about being the most handsome person at Trend." Jackson said, flashing a cocky smile at him and raising an eyebrow. Stiles made a face and huffed quietly to himself. 

Jackson moved back to his desk, picking up the phone and pressing a number on the pad. He waited a few seconds before the other line was picked up. "Your noon is here... No, no... No... Yes, I can do that. It'll be ready in twenty minutes. Yes, he called.... Yes, I know I'll call him to give him your new number. No, I haven't gotten Isaac's shoes cleaned yet." Jackson said, clearly there were much more going on than just Stiles coming in for a interview. Things that Derek had to talk about. Jackson sighed and hung up the phone after being quiet for a solid minute. "He said that you can come in right now. He has a lot to do, so you better be prepared for some fast talking."

Stiles nodded his head, not bothering to say thanks to Jackson. He probably would have said that word to anyone else. But not Jackson, because he had kind of called him unfortunate looking. He sighed quietly as he slowly opened the door to the main office. His mouth instantly went dry when he saw the man that was sitting at the desk in front of him. The man was just... Gorgeous. Not fair gorgeous. He was perfect. With black hair, green eyes, stubble and the kind of body that even in a suit you knew that it was amazing. 

"Stiles." Derek Hale said, sounding so unimpressed that he suddenly did not seem as attractive as Stiles had originally believed when he walked into the room. The worst part, was that Derek didn't even say the name right. He said it like 'Sty-LES'. 

"Stiles." He corrected, biting his lower lip and mentally smacking himself as he did so. He knew that it was a stupid thing to say, correcting the guy that was possibly holding his entire career in his hands. 

"Not that I see." Derek said flatly, raising an eyebrow as he looked over at Stiles and the clothes that he was wearing. He looked just downright serious, clearly not thinking a single thing on Stiles was worth his time or the magazines time. Derek sighed and looked at him. "So, why should I hire someone that clearly has no idea about the fashion industry."

"Because I'm dedicated to what I want to do, and I'm willing to do what it takes in order to get to where I want to be." Stiles said, keeping his face calm as he looked over at Derek. Their eyes were locked for a few seconds, both of them silently judging each other. Stiles judged the older man for the work that he did, something he didn't see as important as world news. Derek judging the younger man on what he decided to wear to a fashion magazine. 

"You start tomorrow. Eight o'clock. I want you coming in with a coffee from the shop at the corner of the street. Mocha with three shots, two packets of sugar and one skim milk." Derek ordered, frowning at the male and turning away from him and to the laptop that was situated behind him. Stiles frowned a bit, assuming that he had just been hired and that was his subtle hint to get the hell out of there. 

Stiles stepped out, looking a bit dazed. He glanced towards Jackson, who had a raised eyebrow. "Judging on the fact that you aren't crying, I'll say that you got the job." 

"I guess." Stiles said with a shrug, ready to get out of there and go curl up in bed and possibly think about what to wear the next day. He grabbed his phone, quickly emailing Derek's order on the phone and sending it to himself. He was the assistant. 

He was nearly to the elevator when he was stopped by a strawberry blonde girl who had a look in her eye as though she knew everything that the world had to keep. She looked him up and down, raising an eyebrow. "When you grow your hair out two inches, give me a call." She said, holding out a business card and then disappearing back into where she had came from. 

Looking at the paper, it just said Lydia Martin. He slipped it into his pocket, fairly sure that this had to be the weirdest day that he had ever been alive.


	2. Catalogs + Flirting

It was four o'clock in the morning, that was really the only thing that Stiles could focus on as he made his way through the almost entirely empty Trend office space, rubbing the sleep out of his eyes with the back of his hands. He was wearing a black t-shirt and jeans, figuring that it didn't really matter because it was four in the morning and no one was going to be there anyway. He'd been working at Trend for a little under a month, and things had just been a disaster from the very start.

As it turned out, he did not magically grow on Derek as he had originally hoped that he would. Nor did Derek at all prove that Stiles was going to have an awesome and fun boss. No, his boss was a great big bag of dicks that frequently decided that being mean to Stiles at least every hour was a part of his daily schedule. 

The only reason that he hadn't quit yet was that he knew in a year he would be a hot commodity in the writing world. He needed that, something to look forward to. 

"You look like you just walked out of hell." Jackson commented, looking disturbingly awake as he looked over at Stiles. He was wearing a suit, and he was drinking a coffee. Stiles rolled his eyes a little bit and set his bag behind his desk and sighed. He wasn't entirely sure what his reaction was supposed to be other than that, Jackson was just snarky and rude all of the time. "Isaac and Derek must have had a fight or else we wouldn't be here."

"Who?" Stiles asked, raising an eyebrow at him with a bit of curiosity on his face. He didn't know a lot about Derek's personal life, he wasn't someone that a lot of people hung around and gossiped with.

"Isaac is his husband." Jackson sighed, rolling his eyes. Stiles raised an eyebrow, because he really had no idea about that and was surprised to learn that from Jackson. He hadn't really pegged Derek as gay, despite working at a fashion magazine as an editor. "They've been fighting for like the past year and Isaac apparently filed for divorce so they've just been arguing even more to actually talk about it." Jackson said, seemingly happy to be gossiping about all this with someone that had no idea.

"That sucks." Stiles said, scrunching up his nose a little bit and glanced at him. "What do we even do at four o'clock in the morning when no one else is at work?" He asked, and Jackson shrugged a little bit as he sat down behind his desk.

"Whatever the hell he wants." Jackson grumbled, sounding genuinely put out about Derek since the first time that Stiles had been there. He believed Jackson to just be a gossip who was more than willing to lick Derek's Louis Vuitton shoes. Apparently, he liked working for Derek about as much as Stiles liked working for Derek. Which wasn't a whole lot. 

The two of them were quiet, booting up their computers and trying to shake the feeling of sleep that was inside of the both of them. Grabbing his cup of coffee, Stiles went into the bathroom to take a quick pee, one that he had been holding since he had been woken up and told to come in. He just didn't have the time to actually pee while he was getting there. He was afraid of infuriating his boss, so he had left the apartment as quickly as he could and gone across town to make sure that he wouldn't.

When he was out, Derek was standing over his desk with an annoyed expression on his face. Jackson already looked like he had been drilled into pretty hard. He was working on whatever he needed to work, his phone in front of him as he scrolled through the internet Rolodex. 

"You're late." Derek said, his voice flat and his face blank as he saw Stiles coming into the room. Stiles knew that he should have shut his mouth, but it was so early in the morning that he didn't even care at that moment.

"I was here. I went to the bathroom." Stiles said simply, going over to his desk and sitting down as he kept his gaze away from Derek. He could practically feel the man glaring at him for saying something when it wasn't his place to say anything. Even more than that, Stiles had corrected the older man, and so few people in the office seemed willing to do that to him. Stiles mentally hit himself because he knew that he would regret that later. 

"Well, then you can personally help me today." Derek said, turning around and going into his office. Stiles looked up, confused about what just happened. He looked over at Jackson who was wearing a confused look on his face. 

"What does that mean?" He asked, hoping that the other male was able to decipher what was just said to him. Glancing down at his phone, he saw that it was vibrating with a text from Derek, that simply said 'get in here'. 

"It means that you're going to have one hell of a day." Jackson mumbled, rolling his eyes at him. Whatever Derek had said to him had clearly irritated him in a way that Stiles was thankful that he didn't understand. "Now you know better than to talk when he's in one of these moods."

"Tell me about it." Stiles grumbled, making his way out of the assistants room and went into Derek's office, slipping his phone into his pocket. Derek gave him an annoyed look and raised an eyebrow. "Is there anything that you need?" Stiles asked, managing to keep a good and calm voice for him.

"I want you to go to the wardrobe department and catalog all the items there. I want the year, the color and the overall description of the outfit." Derek said, frowning as he looked at the younger male. Stiles nodded his head, and went towards the door. "Don't screw it up."

With that pleasant warning, Stiles left the room and grabbed his laptop along with the charger, assuming that it was going to be a rather long day while he was down there. Jackson raised an eyebrow. "What is he having you do?"

"Catalog the wardrobe department." He said, shrugging slightly as he looked over at him. Jackson just started laughing and Stiles rolled his eyes. "What?"

"He has people do that when he wants a reason to fire them. Or when he wants them to freak out from stress or quit. I'm pretty sure that one of his assistants actually freaked out enough to nearly commit suicide." Jackson said, looking amused as he played with a pencil between his lips. "Besides, you'll have to deal with Lydia."

"Lydia?" Stiles asked curiously, but Jackson just shook his head at that. Apparently he didn't really want to go into details, but if he thought that the woman named Lydia was bad then Stiles would just take his word on it. He worked for Derek Hale, and he figured that whoever else Jackson thought was bad was probably not all that good. 

\-- 

Two hours passed before anyone in the wardrobe department showed up for work, and they paid the flustered male no attention, just getting to work with whatever fashion thing that they had to do. He was halfway through 1999, which apparently was when the last time the wardrobe department had been cleaned out in the back. It was insane how much had to actually be done here, and he started to understand why a previous assistant (when faced with this looming pile and the possibility of being fired) had attempted to take their own life. It seemed as though Derek had that kind of effect on people.

"What are you doing?" The red haired woman that had spoken momentarily to him the first day said, crossing her arms over her chest and looking down at the boy that was on the ground. She looked as though she was about to take her high heel off and jam it into Stiles' eye. He was seriously considering letting her. 

"I'm doing a catalog for the department?" He said, looking a bit depressed as he looked up at her. He was surprised to hear a loud sigh from her as she rolled her eyes at what Stiles had told her. 

"You must have royally pissed him off... Or you just downright annoy him by existing. It's probably both, he thinks you're a crime against fashion." She said, plucking a piece of Stiles' hair from his head and holding it against a measuring tape that she had in her hand. "An inch and three quarters." She said, raising an eyebrow at him. "Two inches, and I'll help you with your appearance, but I already have everything cataloged so you can hand it in to him."

"You do?" He asked, sounding surprised as he got off of the ground, after rubbing his head when she had torn the piece of hair out of his head. He figured that growing his hair out for another month would be worth not being mocked every time he walked into the room. She reached behind a desk and handed it over to the man. "Thanks."

"I'm tired of him sending in people to do this so he can fire them." She said, rolling her eyes and making it clear that she was not doing this out of the goodness of her heart. "So go give it to him, try not to look like a jerk when he looks at you in shock and try to keep your job. I can nearly guarantee that things will be easier in the office once you start dressing like you're out of college." 

Stiles took the book and then nodded his head to her, flashing her a slight smile as he left the damned wardrobe room. He was so tired of looking at all the different clothes and trying to figure out what was going on. He made his way back down the hallway, dodging models and designers that had been turned away. When he got to the assistants room, he looked at Jackson. "I have the catalog." 

"Really?" Jackson said, sounding pretty disbelieving as he looked at what the other was holding in his hands. He had seen so many assistants freak out and had heard so many stories. Then this kid, had somehow managed to either get a copy or actually managed to sort through all the clothes. He was mystified. "He's not busy, so please go in." He said, getting up and following Stiles as he went to the door. He just had to see how this was going to work out to Derek. 

"Well?" Derek said, demanding to know why Stiles was in his office after only three hours of working in the wardrobe department. Stiles placed the catalog in front of the other male, Derek raised an eyebrow and opened it, looking confused and then he looked obviously annoyed. "How...?"

"Lydia Martin has apparently been working on a catalog, she said that if you needed a recent one that it would be easier if she gave you the one that she had." He explained, a small smile on his lips, bottling up all the smug and 'In your face' feelings that he was having at that moment. Derek raised an eyebrow and nodded, putting the catalog to the side. 

"At least you have found a way of cutting corners at your job, Mr. Stilinski." Derek said, which did deflate the ego that Stiles was starting to grow from his success in getting what the other had asked him to do. "You have successfully avoided being fired today. But I suggest that you adjust your attitude and actually attempt to learn something from this job."

They were dismissed, that was really obvious by the way that Derek turned his back on them, looking through the catalog that had been created by Lydia. Stiles led the way out of the room and grunted when Jackson whacked him on the shoulder. 

"What was that for?" Stiles demanded, rubbing his shoulder as he tilted his head to send the other male a glare. He had no idea what that was for, and Jackson was apparently another one of those guys that had a serious body going on under the clothes that they wore every day.

"I told you not to fraternize with Lydia. If you even think about sleeping with her or anything along those lines, you will be dead." Jackson threatened, and Stiles raised an eyebrow because the idea of sleeping with Lydia was not something that he had planned on doing anytime soon. There was something nice about what she had done for him, but that was about as far as his interest in her was. 

"Wait, you like Lydia?" Stiles said, tilting his head to the side with a bit of a confused look on his face. Jackson rolled his eyes, pursing his lips together for a second and then moving away from Stiles. Stiles was about to ask further about the other male, but it dawned on him that A) He didn't really care B) If he did, Jackson wasn't about to spill those beans to him and C) Judging from how Jackson had warned him off of Lydia, there had to be some kind of history. Neither of them were in the mood to hear about history. 

 

\-----

It was a week later that Stiles got the call from a panicked Jackson. He groaned, reaching over to his phone and picking it up, letting out a yawn. He'd started going to bed earlier, just so that he wouldn't be as stressed out during the day. It was eleven o'clock at night, and Jackson sounded as though he was going to have a panic attack. "I need you to bring the rough draft of the issue to Derek's apartment." 

"I live on the other side of the city and I'm assuming that the draft is at the building." Stiles pointed out, but he was still getting out of bed and getting some real clothes on. "Where are you that you can't pick it up?"

"I'm in New Jersey right now, so I think you win with being closer to the building." Jackson snark, and then seemed to realize that this was not the time to start doing something like this. Especially since Stiles was the only person that could help him and not get him in trouble. "Just go inside, it's on my desk and so are the keys. Go to the large apartment building across the street and go to the fifteenth floor, he's 1523, and go inside. Set it down on the dining room table, in front of the leather jacket and then get out of there."

"...Fine." Stiles said with a sigh, sliding on his red jacket and then making his way down the stairs. "But you seriously owe me if I end up getting stabbed or something in the process of this." Stiles grunted, shutting his phone off. He quickly waved to Scott so that he could get out of there, get to the building and then get into Derek's house without any problems. 

The building was empty, and it was completely creepy this late at night. He used his phone to guide his way towards the desks, not wanting to turn on any of the lights. It was just... Way too creepy and sketchy for him to turn on all the rights. He'd end up just running out of the areas. 

He saw the rough draft of the magazine sitting on Jackson's desk, and he picked it up and slid it into his backpack. Stiles sighed, remembering what Jackson had said and heading back towards the elevator as he crossed his arms over his chest. He really hadn't expected working this over-time for being just an assistant. He didn't even know why he was so nice, letting Jackson off the hook by doing the work for him. Jackson hadn't really done anything to him to help him out. Maybe after his make over by Lydia, he should seriously think about toughening up and not taking anyone's crap any longer.

After riding the elevator to the fifteenth floor, he sighed and got out, making his way through the hallway until he reached the twenty-third room. He slid the key into the lock and quietly tip toed his way into the dining room, putting it carefully down in front of the seat with the leather jacket hanging off the back. He was quiet enough, that he could hear the yelling going on above him. 

"You really think I give a shit if you do anything?" It was Derek's voice, and it sounded harsh as the words left the man. Stiles paused, breathing in deeply and trying to sneak towards the door, tensing up as he heard footsteps on the stairs, ready to bolt or at least apologize and just say that he was getting out of there and he most certainly didn't hear a single thing that was being said. 

But the person that came into the room most certainly wasn't Derek, as a matter of fact the guy looked about Stiles' age and looked rather content with things. He looked at Stiles and flashed a crooked smile at him. "Hi. You one of his assistants?"

"Yeah, I'm the newbie." He said, shrugging his shoulders awkwardly as he thought about getting out of there. He really knew he had to, that he was getting into territory that he didn't really want any part of. He crossed his arms over his chest and shrugged. "I should probably get going." 

"It's nice to see that he doesn't always pick guys that are Jackson clones." The man that had to be Isaac said with a laugh, glancing over at him. "So, seeing as how you look quite alarmed, I'm guessing you heard what was going on upstairs?"

Stiles chewed on his lower lip and then nodded. "I didn't mean to, I was just trying to get out of here and be quiet. Kind of not let Jackson get in trouble for forgetting about this." He said, shrugging. He saw Isaac's eyes traveling over his body, and decided that it would be best to just ignore that.

Isaac grinned and opened the door for him, sliding a card over to Stiles. "If you ever want to hang out sometime, or if you need some help with him. I can probaby help you out. I know how to take care of his drama, and get him what he whiningly needs."

"Thanks." Stiles said, walking out of the building with Isaac, unaware of the green eyes that had been watching the two of them converse.


	3. Lunch + Dinner

The weekend after dropping the rough draft off at Derek's house was probably the nicest since he had started working for him. Jackson was still in New Jersey doing whatever he did when he was there, and Derek seemed to be so wrapped up in his work that he had no time to ask random things of the two men when they were supposed to be not working. Scott dropped what he was designing and hung out with Stiles at their favorite bar. They got drunk, laughed at stupid things and basically had a great time together. Throughout the weekend, at random intervals, Isaac would text Stiles about random things. Things that were actually kind of nice to talk about, and it was cool even though there was the nagging reminder that this was Derek's boyfriend he was talking to. 

Really, he should have known that something was up. Or at least he should have known that these nice things weren't going to last very long. 

As he walked into the office that Monday, he could immediately feel the difference in the feeling of the area. It as never very pleasant to begin with, but that day it felt as though a blizzard had blown in and frozen everything in place. He sat down at his desk and then stole a glance over at Jackson, who he had just realized was sending him an icy death glare. 

"What?" Stiles asked, putting his laptop on the table in front of him and then glancing over at the other male once again. He had no idea why Jackson was glaring at him so hard, but he had a feeling that he was about to find out what he had done wrong.

"I told you to just go in there, and then get the hell out of there. I guess I should have mentioned for you not to talk to anyone and just leave as quickly as you could. But no, you had to dawdle and easy drop onto their conversation." Jackson snapped, and put a hand up when the other started to open his mouth to respond to what he had to say. "And because of your fuck up, I may not be going to Paris Fashion Week, which means I will personally make your life a living hell. More than he ever could."

"I wasn't dawdling, and I didn't mean to ease drop on them." He said, frowning as he looked at the other male. "It as an accident and then Isaac came downstairs and started talking to me. I don't know why, but he did. I didn't think it was really that big of a deal."

"It's a big fucking deal. Now both of us are going to get impossible tasks. We're easily replaced. He's probably going to have hundreds of us in his life time." Jackson said, although he had begun to sound just downright miserable as he looked down at his paper. "If I go to Fashion Week, I could be spotted. I want to be a designer for fucks sake. If you ruin this for me, you won't have to worry about finding a job because you'll be buried under cement!"

Stiles raised an eyebrow, but wasn't surprised that Jackson wanted more out of this job than to be an assistant. He couldn't see why anyone would want to work there without having another goal in life. Stiles nodded his head and sighed. "I promise that I'll help you with whatever impossible task he gives you." He murmured, glancing up as Derek walked down the hallway, raising an eyebrow at them. 

"I think we all need to talk about what the plans are for today." Derek said, his voice colder as usual. He didn't even acknowledge that Stiles was in the room with him. But it was obvious that he was meant to follow, as he went into Derek's office with him. He stood next to Jackson, feeling as though they were children that had done something terribly wrong. 

Things were silent for a few moments, as Derek checked his email and pretended as though the two of them weren't there. Stiles could only imagine that most of his weekend was spent trying to come up with ways to torture the two men into quitting or failing to be fired. Derek glanced at them with an unamused expression on his face.

"Jackson, I thought you would have known better than to allow someone new and untrustworthy into my house." Derek said, frowning as he looked at the male beside Stiles. Stiles felt his cheeks heat up, the urge to yell at Derek was something that he had to quickly swallow down. He didn't like being embarrassed like that and called untrustworthy. If anything, he thought he had been rather trustworthy through this entire thing. So, he was not pleased. 

"I'm sorry, Sir. I thought that Mr. Stilinski would be able to handle something like that without a problem. I know that I was wrong." Jackson said, being a little snake and getting himself out of trouble to the best of his ability. It apparently worked, as Derek finally looked over at Stiles. It as his turn to get whatever he had coming from him.

"Stilinski." Derek said slowly, his eyes narrowing as he looked at the male in front of him. "Unfortunately, it's seemed as unethical for me to fire you in this light. But, I would very much like to fire you and never have to see your tacky clothing ever again." Stiles bit on the inside of his cheek as he looked at the other male, trying not to panic. "You have three days to match faces to the name. I'm bringing both of my assistants to the diner that is then. I need you to memorize all of the people that are coming. Names, faces, and everything else in between."

"Okay..." Stiles said slowly, raising an eyebrow as he looked over at him with a small frown. He really didn't think that it was that big of a deal. Certainly not a difficult task, and apparently there was going to be free food in it for him. They were excused and Stiles took the large file that the other male handed to him and went into the other room.

"Impossible task number six thousand." Jackson said, looking at the other and shaking his head. "He wants to embarrass you at the dinner, when you can't remember someone's name. Also, you have to dress better than you are right now." Jackson pointed out, motioning to the clothes that Stiles was wearing with a frown. "It's taken me a year to properly memorize all the faces, names and jobs." He continued, seriously not helping the feeling that was going through Stiles as he stood there looking at what he had in his hands. 

"And let me guess, if I screw up, I get fired?" He asked, quirking an eyebrow at the other male and sighing. He didn't even need to see Jackson nodding his head. He knew that the other was right. He made his way out of the assistants area, holding his phone in case Derek decided that he needed him at any point in the day. 

"I need your help." Stiles said to Lydia as he went into the wardrobe room with her. She glanced up at him and looked slightly amused, her eyes traveling over him. She said nothing though, which he assumed meant that it was okay for him to continue. "I pissed off Derek again, and he said I had to go to a dinner with him. I can figure out some way to memorize the people, but I need something that's appropriate to wear."

"I guess I can find you one suit that will fit you." Lydia said with a slight sigh as she turned to him, crossing her arms over her chest and eyeing him. She then had him put the file down and raise his arms up, measuring all the things that were necessary for her to find a suit that would fit him. "I am glad that you aren't allowing yourself to go looking as fashionably challenged as you usually do." She sighed, flicking some of her hair over her shoulder. 

"I don't really want to get fired quite yet. Give it eleven more months and then I'll happily quit." Stiles said, letting her move him whatever way that she needed. When she was done, she went into the men's area of the wardrobe and came back out with a black suit and a dark purple tie. Stiles raised an eyebrow, but as she held it to him he realized that she was probably right.

"I'd have you try it on, but you look gross. Take it home after tomorrow night and then try it on. Make sure your hair has a quiff, because that's been in since One Direction started doing it." Lydia said, nodding her head as she put it on the rack to be dry cleaned for later that day. She grabbed another piece of his hair and held it up to a ruler. "Closer, but I'll actually help you with a new wardrobe when you get two inches of hair."

Stiles rolled his eyes, not entirely sure why his hair had to be that specific length for her to help him out. She was strange, there was no denying that much about the girl. She ignored him then, which he took to mean that she was done talking to him and that he could leave now. He was halfway back to his desk when his phone began to vibrate in his pocket. He took it out of his pocket and sighed when he saw Derek's number pop up. "Yes, sir?" He was not above using words like that to try and get better with someone.

"I need you to get my lunch from Cazers." Derek said, ignoring the formal way that Stiles had addressed him. Probably wasn't the first person to try and get back into his good graces with a line like that. "Just say my name and they'll know what I want."

"Okay." Stiles said, getting nothing in return as Derek had already hung up on him. He sighed and turned around, making his way out of the building and taking a few minutes to actually find out where Cazers actually was. Thankfully, for ten dollars he was able to pay a homeless man to tell him that it was three blocks and the sign was so large that there was no way that he could miss it. He thanked the man, and left to go find the place where he needed to be. 

It was really no surprise to Stiles that Cazers was a giant five star restaurant, he probably would have been shocked if it wasn't exactly what he expected. He breathed in deeply, making his way inside and seeing the looks that he got from people when he got there. The man that was standing at the front door looked at him and coughed a bit.

"The diner is down the street." He said, raising an eyebrow at him and looking quite amused at his own joke. Stiles rolled his eyes at him. 

"Where can I pick up food for Derek Hale?" He asked, deciding that he was above getting worked up because of what people were saying about him. He really just did not understand these people and their obsession with materialism. He felt fine, he liked what he looked like, but apparently that wasn't good enough for him. He crossed his arm as the man looked through the computer in front of him. 

"We don't have an order for Derek Hale." The man said, it was obvious that the man knew who the editor was, but it was also clear that he didn't have an order. Stiles felt awkward as he glanced around.

"Does he have a usual that he asks for?" Stiles asked, raising an eyebrow while he looked at him. The man looked down at the computer and then shook his head and shrugged. Stiles felt as though he was put in the spot light and he wasn't sure what to do. He didn't really know what Derek liked for food, he'd never been the one to pick up his lunch from here. The man raised an eyebrow as Stiles moved away from the counter and headed for the bar. He figured he might as well get drunk before he told Derek he wasn't going to be coming back. 

"Why the long face?" Isaac's voice came to him from the bar, right after he had ordered a beer. Stiles jumped a bit and looked over at the curly haired male, smiling weakly at him. 

"Derek told me to get him lunch and didn't actually order anything to be picked up. I have no idea what he would like so I'm just going to get drunk before I quit." Stiles groaned quietly as he looked at the other male. 

Isaac had a slightly amused expression on his face, turning to a waiter and ordering a chicken parm with stewed baby potatos along with a small slice of chocolate cake. Have it to go." Isaac said, handing the money over when the man rang it up. Stiles looked at him with a surprised expression. Isaac flashed him a grin and held his drink up, gently clinking it against Stiles' beer. "I maybe a bit bitter, and I may also like you too much for you to be black listed for something stupid."

Stiles flashed a smile and gently clinked his glass against Isaac. Although it probably wasn't the best person to have, he did finally have someone in his corner. Even more than that, he had someone in his corner that knew Derek better than anyone else did. When the box was placed in the bag, Stiles bid farewell to Isaac, getting a kiss on his cheek that caused his entire face to turn red.

When he returned to the office, Derek was pissed that he had gotten something else right, and he probably knew who helped Stiles out in this situation. But there was nothing that he could do about any of it. So he told Stiles to study the people for the dinner that would take place soon enough.

\--

The night of the dinner, Stiles felt as though he was going to throw up at any second. He had done the best that he could, googling each of the people that would be at the dinner, trying to figure out who was who and what they looked like recently. He was glad that he did, because some of them had changed their appearance drastically since the pictures had been updated. One man had become a woman in that time, and he had a feeling that she wouldn't had been happy if he had referred Derek to call her by her previous name. 

He dressed up in his black suit, and had Scott help him figure out how to do a tie. This was not something that he had learned in college, not really anything that he had ever had to worry about either. He glanced at himself in the mirror before he left and felt that he looked good enough to survive the night. He got there early, Jackson raising an eyebrow and looking rather amused at seeing him.

"You aren't wearing the seven season ago clothing that I thought you would be wearing." Jackson commented, and Stiles figured that this was close enough to a compliment for the night. As the night began, the two assistants followed Derek around the room, Jackson whispered to Derek as the person came over to him, telling him their name and what they did. Stiles usually was a little bit slow, but he figured that Jackson was doing a good job and he was proving himself back to Derek that he was the person to bring to Paris with him. 

Derek sat down for dinner, Stiles and Jackson sitting in a table with a bunch of fellow assistants and other people that helped the people that were actually important. Stiles remembered not to make a complete ass out of himself, carefully eating and keeping his elbows off of the table. None of them talked to each other, there was really no point in doing it. There wasn't even mild polite conversation, because they didn't have to work together. A few words were passed between Jackson and Stiles, but not a whole lot. Jackson was focused on not flubbing up and making an ass out of himself, and Stiles was focused on making it through the night without throwing up on himself. 

As the dinner began to wind up, everyone had drinks and they were milling around and overall enjoying themselves. The assistants were once again standing behind the people that were the important ones, and that's when things got interesting for the two assistants behind Derek. A man, Asian, with possibly the biggest mohawk that any of them had ever seen had started to make his way over to them.

Jackson opened his mouth, freezing as he watched the man come closer. He had absolutely no idea who this guy was, and it was actually one of the people that Stiles genuinely knew. Stiles glanced over at Jackson, to see if the other had any chance of redeeming himself. 

"Kuzuhiro Watanabe, worlds tallest mohawk and he is the director of AvantGarde Harajuku and he sells leg wear." Stiles said quickly, making sure that he was saving Derek from being embarrassed. Also, saving the two of them from possibly getting an ear full on Monday. Derek looked over at Stiles, with an unreadable expression on his face. He then turned to the man and greeted him, the man was very happy and he was in fact the person that Stiles thought that he was. 

Even though Stiles had pretty much saved Jackson's ass with that, all he got in return from the other male was a harsh glare from him. Stiles rolled his eyes a little bit and decided that Jackson would thank him later. Or not, it wasn't something that bothered him at the moment. He'd done good that night, and maybe finally made something of a good impression on his boss. 

When the assistants were ready to leave, Derek gave neither of them any words of encouragement. He just nodded to them as they left. 

"You're a dick, you are not going to Paris instead of me." Jackson said, pushing Stiles against the wall and pressing his arm against the other's neck with a frown on his lips. Stiles raised an eyebrow, not entirely enjoying the way that he was being attacked by Jackson.

"I don't want to go to Paris." Stiles said honestly, raising an eyebrow at him and pushing the other away from him. Stiles sighed and ran his fingers through his hair that was growing out. "I just saved you from flubbing and possibly getting into trouble with him on Monday." He pointed out letting out a quiet yawn. Jackson rolled his eyes and left, leaving Stiles with a small sense of accomplishment. 

Very small, but it was there.


	4. Beginnings and Ends

"Congratulations, Stiles." Lydia said, turning around and holding the piece of hair that she had plucked from Stiles' head against the ruler. Stiles raised an eyebrow as he saw that his hair was two inches long. In all honesty, he was quite relieved that the day had finally come where Lydia would give him the make over that he apparently desperately needed. Over the following month, after the dinner, while he did seem to gain some respect for how he handled that night, it was apparent tat the way that he dressed was still a blocking issue for anyone taking him seriously.

Lydia left him alone in the wardrobe room and handed him bags of shirts, jackets, pants, accessories, and shoes. Also socks, because it would appear that Stiles' socks were even an issue for the people that worked at Trend. He glanced inside and smiled a bit at her. "Thanks." 

"I'm not done with you yet, we're going to go over every single acceptable way that you can wear these clothes. If I see you wearing an unacceptable pairing of clothing, then I will personally set you on fire." Lydia said firmly, looking pretty damn scary as she looked at Stiles. The man nodded his head quickly, the concept of being set on fire didn't quite appeal to him at all. 

So for three hours after Stiles was set to go home, him and Lydia sat there in the wardrobe department and went over every single pairing of clothing that he could do without getting bodily harm from Lydia. With each outfit that they put together, Stiles took a picture so it would be easier to remember later on. When they finished the different ways that he could wear the clothes, he had two hundred pictures in his camera for him to wear. He took the bags and nodded at Lydia. 

"Thanks, for this." Stiles said before he left, looking at her for a few seconds to know how sincere he was in this. He never thought he would be the person to care about what he wore, but it had happened not long after he had started working at Trend. Even Scott had noticed, and the man was usually too dense to notice these types of things about Stiles. 

\--

"You look... I'm used to seeing you wear t-shirts and jeans all the time." Scott said, looking over at Stiles with a slightly disapproving look on his face. He loved his friend, he really did. But he didn't like how it was hanging Stiles. The man was sleeping less, eating less and worrying more about how he looked. This was the guy that he had grown up with, that he had made mud pies and things like that. But at the same time, it wasn't the same guy at all. 

"I know. But I'm so fucking tired of hearing people laughing at me without even bothering to get behind my back." Stiles sighed, pouring himself a cup of coffee as he fixed the shirt that he was wearing. It was a black button up t-shirt, tight and close to his body. It was sexy, there was no denying that, especially on Stiles. He wasn't muscular, a little bit around the arms and shoulders, but overall he was a slender boy. He always had been. He had on black pants that fit just right and gave him the look of actually having an ass. 

"Well... I guess if you want to look like everyone else in your office, you're doing a very good job." Scott said, getting a piece of a poptart thrown to his head. Stiles sighed and shook his head, downing the entire coffee and planning on getting some more on his way to the office Scott rolled his eyes and turned back to his drawing board, knowing that what he said was a bit harsh but was the truth. 

Stiles finished getting ready, sliding on black dress shoes with laces and sliding on a dark purple coat that was almost to his knees, but it would keep him warm for the rest of the day. For the first time in years, Stiles said nothing to Scott as he left the room with Scott sitting at the drawing board. He was mad at him, because Scott wouldn't understand. His best friend had always been regarded as attractive and thought of as someone that dressed well.

He probably wouldn't have gotten any of the comments that Stiles had gotten. 

\--

The doors to the elevator opened for him, and the second that he stepped out, he could see that people were standing at him. He looked good, he knew that, but he didn't think that it would be that much of a shock for everyone else to see him actually dressed up in a normal setting. The secretary that usually sent him scathing glares over what he was wearing, had her eyebrows in her hairline when he walked by. 

It was weird, but it was also kind of nice, getting recognized for something like this instead of stared at and treated like an idiot. When he passed the wardrobe department, he looked at Lydia and raised an eyebrow.

The strawberry blonde looked at him over her glasses, studied him for a few seconds. Stiles was prepared for her to come at him with her scissors because he had taken a little bit of creative license by wearing the dark purple trench coat on top of it. She had been iffy about passing that on to him. Slowly, she nodded at him in approval, not ready to set him on fire quite yet.

He made his way into his office, Jackson didn't even say a word which surprised him, until he looked over and saw that Jackson wasn't even there yet. This was strange and new, because he was rarely there before Jackson, the boy was on fire trying to get the assistant job to Paris Fashion Week, which was only a month away. Stiles didn't concern himself with it, because he knew that there was no way in hell that he was going to be getting that trip.

Not unless hell froze over, which seemed unlikely. Stiles wished he could have gone to Paris, not for the fashion part of it but just for the fun. Just being able to travel would have been fun. 

___

It was ten minutes later, after Stiles had read the emails that had been sent to Derek, filtering through the one's that weren't worth it and letting through the one's that were important. Jackson still wasn't there, but Derek had made his first appearance of the day, looking at the younger male with an expression of surprise. 

For a moment, Derek was rendered speechless, looking at the boy who he had considered a lost cause puppy, dressed up and looking quite attractive. But that moment was quickly over when he looked over to tell Jackson that he needed to do something, only to find that the male was not there. His annoyance was back, and any comments he would have given the other were quickly gone. 

"Where is Jackson?" He demanded, giving Stiles a glare, one that was full of annoyance. He was clearly quickly re-thinking which assistant he was bringing with him to Paris. Stiles was new, but he had successfully not actually been late ever. Stiles gave a weak shrug and got his phone out, scrolling through his contacts until he reached Jackson, hitting the call button. "Put it on speaker." Derek demanded. 

Stiles felt uncomfortable doing so, but he did none the less. It took two calls until they managed to actually reach Jackson, by then Derek was standing behind Stiles with an unbelievably pissed off look on his face. He looked more pissed than any time that Stiles had ever seen. It actually frightened him a little bit. 

"Hello?" Jackson's voice came on, sounding tired and a little bit out of it. Stiles opened his mouth to say something but Derek immediately spoke for him, not in the mood.

"Where are you, Jackson?" Derek demanded this from his employee, Stiles shut his eyes tightly hoping that Jackson wouldn't say New Jersey or something like that. For Jackson's sake, he hoped that it would be something like... Important, and not something stupid. 

"I'm in the hospital..." Jackson murmured, and Stiles had to keep himself from letting out a sigh of relief when he heard that. At least he wasn't gambling at the moment, that relieved him on some level. Stiles hoped that Derek would be okay with that, he was sure of that. Until Derek actually spoke. 

"Why?" Derek asked, well, he demanded the answer from Jackson. Jackson sighed, clearly forcing himself to wake up. The male began to speak; "I was coming to work and I got hit by a taxi. I'm going to be in the hospital for a few weeks... But I'll be ready to go once we go to Paris!" Jackson added, there was no way to hide the desperation in his voice.

There was silence from Derek, Stiles was relieve that Jackson was going to be good enough to go to Paris when it was that time. He just hoped that he wasn't stretching himself further than he needed in order to do it. But everything crashed around the two assistants when Derek decided to speak again. 

"Stiles is going with me."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'M SORRY IT HAS BEEN A WHILE I'M STARTING THE NEXT SEMESTER NEXT WEEK AND I'M NERVOUS.  
> So, here's an update anyway!


End file.
